A Legend Retold
by Chezika
Summary: A tale can be told as many times as there are mouths to speak it… but only one way is correct…


**Title:** A Legend Retold**  
Sum:** A tale can be told as many times as there are mouths to speak it… but only one way is correct…**  
**Disclaimer:** **I do not own Frozen or its associated characters… I'm just borrowing them for a bit of fun.**  
Rating:** PG-13 (rating will change later)**  
Characters/Pairing:** Elsa, Anna, Hans, Kristoff**  
Warnings:** Um… none that I know of… not even incest**  
Notes:** This could potentially turn incestuous… but I honestly don't know yet. I do know that there's going to be blood, gore, violence, and some major Hans-bashing down the road… because… the guy is a douche. So all those out there that are fearful of Elsanna, and incest, and all that nonsense—feel free to read along, there's nothing incestuous about this. If it does turn out that way, I might be nice enough to write completely separate chapters for you folks, so that you can enjoy a little bit of AU goodness =D

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Prologue

-from the lips of a storyteller-

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It's kind of dark in the tavern. People are moving about, drunk and sober, they're all moving, all talking. There's a fireplace situated in one corner, an old man sits there in the lone chair. From the perspective of the tender behind the bar, the old man looks to be asleep. Pipe barely held in hand, mug resting on his old beer belly—eyelids drooping shut. If anybody walking by were listening, they probably would have heard a snore or two. But nobody cared. Everybody was more concerned with intoxicating themselves; drinking and eating… eating and drinking. Whichever there was less of, more would come from the other to fill in the empty gap.

Nobody saw as the door opened and closed to the old tavern in the rundown town. The rusted hinges squealing slightly with the force exerted on the rotten wood, pushing it open, followed by the creak when that force was released and the door had to close by itself. The talking and laughing, and even the singing, drowned everything out. Including the steps of the newcomer; the big snow-covered boots moving around the people, dodging the bar maidens and the patrons—he did not see fit to still himself until he had his hands before the flames.

After a moment of silence from him, warming his hands by the fire, he moved his right hand up to lower the scarf that happened to be wrapped tightly about his mouth, the one keeping his lips from freezing. Lifting his head slightly to completely free his jaw of the cloth, he breathed in the smoke and alcohol. Finally, he was warm. It took him a moment before he saw the old man in the chair. The position looked uncomfortable, but the old man seemed to find it fitting enough to sit there and snooze. However, the man knew better—if the old man continued to sleep like that, he would feel it in the morning.

With a sigh, the younger man dropped down to one knee in front of the old man in his chair. Hesitating only slightly, he moved one heavily gloved hand up to pat the man on the shoulder: "Hey… old man?" Nothing. Tapping a bit harder, he jumped slightly. The man had nearly leaped out of the chair, but managed to keep all of the alcohol safely in his mug, and the pipe clasped firmly in his hand. "Old man?" He asked again. But the man seemed to still be floating between the realm of sleep and awake. He looked at the younger man with old gray eyes, not quite sure who he was looking at.

"What is it, boy? Don't you know it's bad luck ta be waking a man whilst he's sleepin'?" The old man groused, he attempted to find his comfort again, but no matter how much he happened to resituate himself, he could not find that one comfortable spot. He groaned in frustration before opting to just sit up straight in the chair and really scold the boy for waking him up. It wasn't often that he could doze in front of his favorite fire place, and he had been content to stay happily dozed in that spot for as long as possible. "Eh? Speak up, boy. Di'ncha father teach you to speak?" The younger man was flustered obviously.

He didn't expect the old man to go on such a tirade. Nor did he expect the questions. Wasn't he the one that awoke the old man before the chair caused uncomfortable muscle pains? The old man should have been grateful, not reproachful. "I figured you would be uncomfortable should you remain in that position… seems that I was sorely mistaken." The old man took a swig from his mug and gave the boy the stink eye, before he leaned back in his chair, keeping one eye on the boy and the other on the fire.

"Hmm… that so?" The boy nodded. "Have a seat lad. Tell me yer name." The younger man looked behind him and saw a small foot stool that could be used as a second piece to the chair the old man was laying in. "C'mon boy, don't take all night." The young man quickly sat, uncomfortable instantly as his long and muscular legs were now pushed up against his chest. "Yer name, boy…"

"Uh… Olaf, sir." The young man replied. The older man seemed to go into thought over the given name.

"I knew an Olaf once… very cheerful fellow… him and my reindeer were the best of friends…"

"Your… reindeer, sir?" The younger man asked. Confused on how a reindeer could be 'friends' with anybody. They were wild beasts, were they not?

"Yes, reindeer, son. Grew up with him." The old man smiled fondly at the memories. "Hmm… you look like you could use a story…" The younger man made to stand at this. But the old man stood, calling out across the tavern. "You ALL! look like you could use a damned story. A tale of the ages, as 'twere." This caught the attention of everyone else in the tavern, causing everyone to turn and stare at the old man that had bellowed out over the din. "Get idiots to stop playin' that racket, Adris! I have a story!" The bartender smirked and nodded at the small band of musicians that he'd usually allow to play without hindrance, they stopped playing instantly.

"What story you tellin' tonight, old man?" The old man look contemplative for a moment, rubbing at his large belly with his free hand, having placed his pipe in the sash that served as a belt.

"Hmm… how about one that I haven't told… since most of ya'll were about knee high?" This got the crowd of men and women to look at the man like he was a nutcase.

"Kristoff, ye didn't know any of these bastards when they were knee high! Git yer head on straight." The bartender called from the bar. This caused the old man to look confused for a moment.

"Right… right… well, regardless if I knew you at knee height or not… I imagine this is a story that all of you have heard at least once… however wrong it was…" The patrons began to mumble and mutter amongst themselves at the old man's statement. "Tha's right, this one… is as true as the yellow hair on my head!" There was a laugh that rang out among the patrons.

"Old man! Your hair is silver! Ain't no yellow in that!" One of the patrons called out.

"Well! It used to be yellow. Full head of it too! Back when I was the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer to the Queen of Arendelle herself!" The bartender scoffed at this one. "It's true and ye know it, don't be spreading lies about me Adris! Ye ain't got the right!" the old man called out, a playful glint in his eye as he admonished the bartender. "Alright… so… where should I begin…" there was a long pause as the man thought. "Ah yes… well, many years ago… during a harsh winter in the Southern Isles… there was a pack of wolves…"

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**Author's Note:** Alright. So in short, this is going to involve werewolves. I think that it's going to be cool. But hey, if you prefer regular humans… maybe you shouldn't have watched Frozen… I mean, Elsa is a damn ice witch… that's not normal no matter how you shake it.

But not everyone is going to be a werewolf… and this isn't going to be a war between Vampires and Werewolves… as 'cool' as that idea once was… I think it's been run into the ground by the media… certain books and movies… yea… my opinion… ignore it… it usually just gets me into trouble anyway.

OKAY! Like I said, this has the potential to become Elsanna. If I think that there is no way to avoid it, then I will make sure to inform everyone the second I've decided. I know that there is a good chunk of us that adore the couple, but there are just as many (if not more, idk) who hate/abhor/thisisasin/immoral/whatthefuckever—but I want everyone to have the chance to enjoy this fic. And if I have to put off the chance of 'incest' or work around it so that it's not, or even write separate chapters for those that are incestuous, then I will do so.

This is another one of my fic-babies, I want actual criticisms, not a random review or PM saying that this was horrible because Elsa and Anna are sisters and they shouldn't act like that. I have a sister. We are close. I know exactly how close sisters can get before it turns into 'incest' and it's not incest until there's… you know, sex. So yea… I want to improve my writing. If you think there is something horribly wrong with my writing style that I can fix to make things a bit better, then send me a review ( f f AO3) or drop me an ask (Tumblr).

Okay… as always, forgive my lack of a filter, I'm apparently going to be pulling an all-nighter (or going to sleep very VERY late… so right now, I have no filter xD) and—

Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed.

_Chezi Out_

P.S. - Elsa and Anna should make their appearances next chapter…

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